


Alarm Clock

by hutchabelle



Category: The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-08-13 13:20:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7978144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hutchabelle/pseuds/hutchabelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This chapter was written for d12drabbles, prompt 6--Children.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alarm Clock

 

His lips move along my neck and suck gently at the hollow of my clavicle. The tip of his tongue flicks out and drags a wet trail up to my mouth, and I welcome him with eager lips. His warm breath sweeps across my cheeks causing me to moan softly into him.

 

With a tender caress, Peeta pulls back and murmurs, “Good morning, darling.”

 

“So good,” I yawn and lean upward to peck a kiss onto the tip of his nose. “I love waking up to you.”

 

“And I love waking up to you,” he admits with a grin and the barest hint of a thrust against me. “Some parts of me more than others.”

 

“How much longer do you think we have?” Glancing at the alarm clock on the bedside table, I groan when I realize we’re already pushing our luck. It’s past 7:00 a.m.

 

“Long enough to try?” His tone is so hopeful, I can’t stand to disappoint him, so I nod in agreement.

 

His mouth devours mine, and I inhale the musky scent of him as his back muscles bunch under my palms. He pulls my hips upward and settles between my legs. My breath hitches in anticipation.

 

“Mommy!”

 

Peeta curses softly and rolls off me and onto his back. Frustrated disappointment stains his handsome face, but he schools his features into a welcoming smile and tugs a pillow onto his lap as our daughter streaks into the bedroom and hops onto our queen-sized bed.

 

“Mommy! Get up! I want pancakes,” Lily chirps in her sweet, five-year-old voice. Peeta reaches over to tickle his child, and she bursts into a gale of childish giggles that sparks pure joy in my heart. After several moments, she begs her father to stop. When he does, she curls into his embrace and nuzzles her soft blonde curls into the crook of his shoulder.

 

“Good morning, Daddy,” she says brightly and pats his cheek with her pudgy hand.

 

“Morning, pumpkin,” he greets her and adds a smacking kiss on her soft cheek. “Why are you asking your mommy for pancakes? You know mine are the best.”

 

“Hey!” I bark in defense of my cooking skills, but I know he’s right. The thought of Peeta’s pancakes make me salivate almost as much as I do over his backside—especially when he flavors them with a touch of cinnamon and brown sugar. Darn our little alarm clock. She’s stellar at interrupting us every time we attempt intimacy before getting out of bed.

 

“Have you used the bathroom yet this morning, sweetheart?” When she shakes her head, he instructs her, “You can’t help me make pancakes until you wash your hands. Go do that, and I’ll meet you in the kitchen, okay?”

 

“Yes, Daddy!”

 

Lily flees the room in a flurry of bouncing curls and gangly legs. Her enthusiasm makes my heart happy when I think of the hardships my family underwent during my childhood.  I don’t ever remember being that carefree.

 

“You just did that to get rid of her, didn’t you?” I ask with a smile and turn to face my husband. He smirks and leans in to kiss me, his mouth urgent against mine.

 

“I’ll make dinner for a year if you call your mom and ask her to keep Lily at her house tonight. I need morning sex with my wife sometime before our daughter turns 16.”

 

“Mmmm… Let me think for a minute.” When he bites my lower lip, I jerk against him and yelp, “Okay! I’ll do it.” He ghosts more kisses over my face before reluctantly heaving himself upright.

 

“Good. Maybe we can give Lily a little brother or sister soon. Why not have two alarm clocks instead of one?”

 

I hurl a pillow at him along with a few choice words as he heads downstairs to cook, but it doesn’t take long before I warm to the idea of adding a child to our small family. If nothing else, it’ll be fun to try.

 

Quickly, I dial my mom’s number. When she answers, I ask, “How much do you want a second grandchild?”


End file.
